


Cross-indexing Every Weatherman's Report

by zimriya



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 19:07:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya
Summary: So what do I do with this: this sudden burst of sunlight and me with my umbrella, cross-indexing every weatherman’s report. Was ready for the downslide, but not for spring to well up, this feeling calls for everything that I am. Not.Or, that time Changmin got weird about performing without Yunho while in the military (and, spoiler: Yunho did too). Non AU.





	Cross-indexing Every Weatherman's Report

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tapunyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tapunyr/gifts).



> For Debs, who was super concerned and worried about how Changmin’s doing sans Yunho in military. Yunho isn’t the main in this but I feel like Changmin’s moping will resonate with you, given we are both utter Yunho girls at heart. (I hope you figure everything out b/c you’re so LOVELY and NICE and GOOD in this fandom and you deserve ALL the happiness. <3)
> 
> Title from [Stray Italian Greyhound](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Yx35eyqVdUM) by Vienna Teng, which, is totallly a Changmin to Yunho song. Betaed by Scar. All other mistakes are my own.

  **Cross-indexing Every Weatherman’s Report**

\--

**2016**

\--

The first time, Changmin doesn’t really think about it. He’s too exhausted mentally from all the new people and etiquette, and too exhausted physically from all the army _everything_ for much beyond smiling and muscle memory, but he’s one of the older members of the unit, a celebrity, and as Donghae-hyung and Siwon-hyung are happy to keep pointing out, it is his song.

Changmin would have been more annoyed with them for the constant reminders, because it seemed to make the younger members of the unit a little giddy, but the hero-worship, if not a little bit awkward and surprising, and not something Changmin thinks he’ll ever get used to, wasn’t something _new_.

Being without Yunho on a stage, though. That gives him pause.

The feeling passes soon enough; Donghae-hyung and Siwon-hyung pass by in a blur of restless energy and Changmin lets himself get caught up in it, forcing himself into the more commanding role of ‘I know what I’m doing these are my _songs_ ’ and forgets, for a second, that he once gave an awkward tour interview about how he sometimes felt unheard because of how beautifully present Yunho was.

Donghae-hyung’s the sunbae, now, and he’s having the time of his life putting Siwon-hyung through the ropes over it. Changmin’s gotten some of it too--no doubt doubly amusing since he’s got 3 years of debut on the both of them--but Changmin’s starting to get the sense that the teasing’s been tempered.

And it doesn’t take very much to figure out why that may be, which brings everything full damn circle.

At the least Changmin’s used to dealing with Yunho’s overprotective mother-henning. It’s the other things that give him pause; like when he’s tasked with starting ‘Mirotic’ and has a split second of balk because that’s _Yunho’s part_ , not his; or when he looks to his right and sees Donghae-hyung, several centimeters too short and several watts too dim.

And then Changmin feels bad, because he knows firsthand what it feels like to be compared to Jung King of the Stage Yunho.

Almost as if reading his mind, Donghae-hyung wanders by between songs with an unopened water bottle held out between them, lips upturned in a wry smile.

“I’m not even going to try,” he says, voice shrewd. “I’ve heard enough war stories from Yunho-hyung. And Kyu.”

“Kyuhyun is a horrible liar,” Changmin says instantly. “And Yunho-hyung is an over-exaggerating dick.”

Donghae-hyung snorts and doesn’t move. “Yeah, well,” he says. “Better safe than sorry.”

Changmin takes the offered water bottle with narrowed eyes, unscrews the cap, and squeezes out a small mouthful.

Donghae-hyung watches the whole thing, eyes twinkling, and when Changmin’s all puffed out like the asshole who gave Donghae-hyung the advice in the first place, he speaks. “See, I’d have put my mouth on that, and then not only would you have murdered me, but Yunho-hyung--”

“Is not here,” Changmin interrupts, swallowing the whole thing quickly and gasping a little. His voice comes out sharper than he’d intended, but Donghae-hyung’s not the only one who got cornered pre-enlistment with instructions from overconcerned bandmates slash life partners. And all of _them_ were either mid-enlistment, done with enlistment, or Cho Kyuhyun, and just because Donghae-hyung and Siwon-hyung aren’t Kyuline doesn’t mean I wouldn’t die for them, Changmin, please, you think you’d know it best given how desperately in love with Yunho-hyung you are. (“I am _not desperately_ in love with--” “YOU ARE ENLISTING TWO YEARS EARLY--” “IT IS FOR TVXQ--” “DESPERATELY IN LOVE WITH--” “YOU ARE THE _WORST_ FRIEND--”)

Donghae-hyung just looks chagrined, and drags a hand through his shorn short hair, entirely oblivious to the horrible flashbacks Changmin is currently in the throes of. Which just makes everything a little worse, since Yunho would know.

Yunho would probably smirk at him, fully aware of what he was thinking, even though that makes no sense, since the conversation would never have happened in the first place, but Changmin’s long given up on trying to wrestle with the more inane parts of his psyche so he lets it go.

The point is he still feels off, and tired, and very alone.

“Right,” Donghae-hyung says suddenly, and then, with a serious affect that leaves Changmin’s aching chest throbbing: “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What is?” says Changmin, like he doesn’t know.

Donghae-hyung isn’t fazed. “You know you’re too tall for that part in ‘Oppa, Oppa,’ right?” he says.

Changmin swallows. “Yeah, well.” He licks his lips. “You’re too short for ‘Mirotic.’”

Donghae-hyung’s eyes glint, and Changmin feels the tension he didn’t know he was carrying lessen.

“But you know you might be a better dancer,” he adds, fully aware it’s a blatant and obvious lie, just to watch Donghae-hyung smile.

He isn’t expecting the laugh, and can only bow when Donghae-hyung does, one hand clapped over his mouth to muffle the sound and an apologetic glance over at their superiors. For a moment the two of them just giggle, bemused, before Donghae-hyung drapes an arm around Changmin’s shoulders like a limpet.

“I’ll tell him you said that at my next Changmin update,” he says, patting Changmin very quickly on the back. “Come on. I think they’re ready for us.” He disengages, salutes, grins some more, and walks away.

Changmin sputters after him, cheek flaming, and ears on fire. “Yah. Donghae-hyung!” he manages, much more shrilly than he would like. “You do not have ‘Changmin updates’--what are ‘ _Changmin updates_ ’-- _yah_ \--!”

Donghae-hyung just smirks at him, and Changmin fights off the urge to smile back thankfully.

“What’s this about our monthly Changmin updates?” says Siwon-hyung, joining them with a few of their juniors.

“Yeah, Hyung, who are you updating about Changmin-hyung?” one of them says, with wide eyed grin.

Changmin finds himself repeating the honorific under his breath, still not entirely used to it and half horrified that he’s somehow become fucking _old_ , and half glad for the distraction.

Donghae-hyung keeps smirking at him. No doubt he’s noticed. “Yeah, Chang--Changmin?” he says, voice breaking almost like he wanted to use a nickname, and then thought better of it. “Who?’

“No one--what--you’re the one who said it--” sputters Changmin.

“That’s right.” Donghae-hyung fucking cuddles him. “Yunho-hyung,” he tells the group in fake hushed tones.

“U-Know Yunho-sunbaenim?” one of their juniors says, eyes crinkling. “Ahhh. That’s so nice of him to think of Changmin-hyung.”

Changmin really is sputtering now. “Sunbaenim--who are you calling _sunbaenim_ \--you made jokes about my stage name for _weeks_ \--!”

Siwon-hyung grins. “That’s because your stage name is ‘strongest’, Changmin-ah,” he says, tone patronizing.

“Yeah, Hyung,” one of the others pipes up. “Your stage name is funny. U-Know Yunho-sunbaenim’s is clever.”

Changmin hates them _all_. “Yunho’s stage name is U-Know Yunho.” And then for good measure. “ _U-Know Yunho_.”

His juniors stare back at him with too innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, Hyung,” they all chorus. “We don’t speak English.”

Changmin cannot _believe_ the blatant disrespect. “ _Just--_ places,” he says finally, deflating with a long sigh.

They all scurry off, grinning, and Changmin has to work very hard to not pinch the bridge of his nose. When he’d signed up for this he had thought he’d be doing more service than performance, and less teaching and almost parenting than, but when he’s not on stage it’s nice to have people looking up to him and holding him accountable. On stage he just wishes Yunho was around.

“Feel better?” Donghae-hyung says suddenly, and Changmin doesn’t jump but he does damn startle like a fucking rabbit.

“What?” He glances around to make sure no one saw, takes in the badly concealed hope on everyone’s faces, and swallows hard, suddenly overcome.

“Thought so.” Donghae-hyung gets into position, gestures for the music. “I’ll be sure to thank Yunho-hyung at my next Changmin update--”

Changmin is a seasoned ten plus year old veteran performer and he could do ‘Mirotic’s choreography in his sleep, which means it’s almost too easy to trip Donghae-hyung during one of the transitions.

“Oops,” he says, pleased, and then when Donghae-hyung meets his eyes: “Thanks.”

Donghae-hyung salutes.

\--

“I really don’t understand why you’re making such a big deal about this,” says Kyuhyun, with a long drawn out sigh. “Chwang.”

Changmin just wails some more and presses his entire face into the table. “Kyu,” he whines. “Kyu, Jung Yunho is the _worst_ man I have ever wanted to marry.”

Kyuhyun pauses for a moment, opens his mouth a few times, and then, when he takes in the truly sorry excuse for a human that is Changmin, seems to reconsider.

Changmin doesn’t even have time to worry about his reputation or good looks because they’re all alone in his apartment on his leave and no one ever has to know that he spent half of their supposed Kyuline night sipping wine and the other half groaning into a table. And not the good kind. Cause Yunho, despite having shown up outside his door the other night with a bottle and a smirk and a, ‘sorry I missed you that first time, Changdol, but surprise,’ is not here. And Yunho’s the only person Changmin wants to moan into a table for.

Kyuhyun is making a sour face; it’s possible Changmin’s said that all out loud. Maybe he is drunk. Maybe Kyuhyun really did bring him fancy, high quality wine.

Kyuhyun makes a noise. “Oi! It is your _birthday_ \--”

“Not yet,” Changmin interrupts, like a true friend.

“--when have I ever _not_ brought you ‘fancy’ ‘expensive’ ‘wine’?” Kyuhyun makes air-quotes.

Changmin squints at him, face still pressed into the coffee table. “Why’d you put quotes around wine?” he says.

Kyuhyun reaches across the table and thwacks him on top of the head. “Mean,” he says.

Changmin rubs his cheek into the wood and whines. “Kyu, he says. “Kyu, I’m having a crisis.”

“I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this,” Kyuhyun says with his nose in the air, “given the utter fit you threw when Yunho-hyung didn’t come bother you in recording and instead missed out seeing you entirely since you were off gallivanting in Los Angeles looking pretty.”

“I did not ‘throw a fit,’” Changmin snaps back, flipping up his own badly mangled air-quotes for effect. “And thanks for not mincing your words.”

“You’re welcome.” Kyuhyun’s nose is still in the air. “You know this is the first time we’ve seen each other since the New Year, right? I’m starting to think you love Yunho-hyung more than me.”

There’s a pause.

Changmin lifts his head off the coffee table, straightens his unruffled too short hair, and picks up his wine glass. “Is this… _news_ …to you?” he says, and takes a sip.

Kyuhyun glowers at him, arms crossed, but Changmin just raises a hand to let his friend know to wait until he’s done drinking.

He drains his glass quickly, keeps fake sipping, keeps grinning around the rim of the glass, and takes great pleasure in the look on Kyuhyun’s face.

“It’s fine, I love Ryeowook more than you, anyway,” Kyuhyun says when Changmin finally lifts away from his glass. “Asshole.”

Changmin reaches out to pat Kyuhyun on the cheek. “There, there,” he says. “You’re still my number two.”

Kyuhyun shakes his head at him. “Dick,” he says.

Changmin just grins. “You’re right, but Yunho’s is better.”

Kyuhyun’s barks out a startled laugh, and pours him another sliver. “Well I’m glad to see you’re feeling better, at least,” he says. “But if you excuse me, I’m going to go bleach my eyeballs.”

He stands up and makes for Changmin’s bathroom, closing the door slightly and turning on the sink.

Changmin giggles, setting his glass down and sprawling more comfortably against his couch. “You mean you don’t want to hear all about my adventures with Yunho-hyung’s _dick_ , Cho Kyuhyun?” he shouts into the hallway. “Even though it means I love you a lot--enough to tell you _all_ my secrets--”

Kyuhyun pokes his head back around the corner with narrowed eyes and flushed cheeks. “Shim Changmin you shut up about secrets I have _walked_ in on you I will never look at candles the same again--”

Changmin grins back at him, entirely at ease. “You’re the one who didn’t heed the sock on the door,” he says.

Kyuhyun throws his hands in the air. “There was no sock on the door! The sock had fallen off the damn door because Yunho-hyung was fucking you _against_ the door!”

Changmin blinks up at him a few times.

“My door!” Kyuhyun continues. “Against _my door_!”

Changmin sighs, mind far off. “Ah yeah,” he says. “That was such a good day.”

Kyuhyun steps back into the bathroom and slams the door. “It was _not_!” he shrieks. “I hate you _so much_!”

“Love you too,” Changmin calls instantly. “But less than Yunho-hyung and Yunho-hyung’s dick.”

Kyuhyun makes a pained wailing noise behind the door.

Changmin smiles, infinitely more at ease.

\--

Doing the concerts get easier. Changmin starts to fall into a routine; his legs start moving from familiar choreography to less familiar choreography--Kyuhyun finds it hilarious that he’s been forced to learn so many of his songs--on their own; he stops feeling quite so taken aback by how many people there are on stage with him; and he starts to enjoy it. Even though they do make him wear a giant costume for one or more shows. And breathing is rather hard with the head on. And he’s a girl.

He’s still never gotten over being self-conscious about all the fans that follow him from performance to performance, but he actually thinks that’s good. After all, as he explains to a rather unimpressed and sleep deprived Cho Kyuhyun a few days after getting his wisdom teeth out (and potentially still drugged like no one’s business), it just means he’s fully committed to serving as Shim Changmin, normal guy, and not Choikang Changmin, celebrity superstar.

Kyuhyun totally doesn’t understand, but Yunho’s totally fucking unreachable, so Changmin has to settle. And the causal teasing and back and forth once his friend wakes up a little is good, and distracts Changmin from the ache in his jaw.

He sees Yunho a few times, when their breaks match up, and makes sure to text him when they don’t quite. The fans haven’t started to catch on because they’re careful, but after June, and all the articles, and fan fighting, and ugly feelings Changmin had been ignoring since 2009, they decide they should publicly meet for one of the next breaks. Besides, Changmin’s got one year left, and Yunho _months_. It only makes sense.

Siwon-hyung comes with. SUM café is safest, since they have private rooms and a readily accessible number of fans, and Changmin shows up first dressed in black with Siwon-hyung and several manager-hyungs in tow.

Yunho’s due any minute, supposedly has fucked up his wrist, and Changmin is going to fucking _kill_ him once he’s done with all the fanservice and once Siwon-hyung’s been dismissed and isn’t around to watch and remember so he can tease Changmin for the next year and a bit.

But most, Changmin is going to shit himself.

“Changmin-ah,” says Siwon-hyung. “Relax.”

Changmin glares at him from behind his mask, and tips his hat down a little bit to hide his eyes. “Shut up,” he says.

Siwon-hyung shakes his head at him, amused. “You saw him last month.”

“Yeah, well,” snaps Changmin. “I also saw you last month.”

Siwon-hyung blinks at him.

Changmin stares back and pretends that sentence made fucking sense.

“Okay,” Siwon-hyung says finally. “Well, it’s good that you’re still excited after all these years?”

Changmin narrows his eyes at him, reaches up to pull his mask down and off so that he can rip into the man because even though Siwon-hyung has been lovely and supportive and slightly more ripped and handsome so that the rest of their unit focuses on him whenever they have to get half naked for the good of the country, he sometimes acts like Changmin and Yunho are fucking _married_ or something, and that is fucking unacceptable the only people allowed to call them married are Yunho and Changmin and sometimes their staff on good days. (And Kyuline, but that’s more because Kyuline don’t understand that when Changmin’s left eye twitches he really does mean business and he really will air their dirty laundry into the group chat that includes Qian and sometimes Shim Jaewon.)

Only before he can do any of that--and Siwon-hyung totally looks relieved; he totally just fucking let out a breath and took several steps back--Yunho arrives and the fans go slightly nuts.

Which is good, because it gives Changmin enough cover to try to make his face look a little less crazy.

He stuffs the mask into his pocket and ends up saluting, unable to fucking _help_ himself, and then grinning like such an utter idiot. They saw each other every single break minus a few when Yunho was off being too kind for the world visiting a friend’s mom’s shop thing. Changmin’s heart should not be dancing to _Catch Me_ in the corner.

Changmin’s heart is fucking belting the high notes.

“Changdol, hi,” Yunho says.

Changmin makes a truly embarrassing noise high in the back of his throat, hears himself make the noise, sees Siwon-hyung make a mental note to tell _all_ their friends and Lee Donghae about the noise, and fucking hugs Yunho to save fucking face.

Yunho smells amazing.

It is possible Changmin has made a grave mistake.

“Nope,” Yunho says into his neck. “Keep hugging me. This is nice.”

“You’re nice,” retorts Changmin, into his collarbone. “Hyung.”

Yunho just pats him on the back a few more times and pulls away. “Siwon, hi,” he says, turning to Siwon. And then goes to greet the staff.

Changmin takes the moment to remember how to breathe.

\--

The room they’ve been put it in is incredibly fucking pink.

This is the first thing Changmin takes in, once everyone’s dispersed and it’s just him and Yunho, but it’s kind of hard not to notice.

“To be fair,” Yunho says, claiming a seat and not even bothering to hide a yawn behind his injured wrist. “It is called--”

“The Pink Room, yes, I know,” Changmin says quickly, coming around the table so that he can sink into Yunho’s lap. “But, Hyung.” He tries not to shiver too pleasantly when Yunho’s hands land on his hips. “It’s really fucking pink.”

Yunho glances around the room a bit, meets Changmin’s eyes, and then, after two seconds, they’re off.

Changmin buries his nose back in between Yunho’s collarbones to try to stifle the giggles, elation like a balloon in his chest, and revels in the ease of tension in his shoulders. He sighs after a moment of laughter, lets it fade out, and then, before he can think better of it, presses a small kiss to the bit of skin where his lips are.

Yunho’s hands tighten on his hips. “Changdol-ah,” he warns.

Changmin ignores him. “Hyung,” he replies. “It has been months.”

Yunho glares at him, gets a hand in his hair and hauls him up and away so that Changmin gets the full effect. And then he must see something on Changmin’s face that has him softening.

Changmin’s brow furrows, head tilting and mouth opening in confusion before he can stop himself--because what did he see; what does he always see; what keeps Yunho staying?--and then gets distracted by Yunho’s lips when the older man kisses him.

And this is fine too. Kisses are safe. At most, they both come out of the room with shit eating grins and too raw looking mouths and their managers shake their heads at them and send them off home to get it out of their systems before they have to go work on their comeback. Only.

They’re not just kissing anymore, are they, since Changmin’s still in Yunho’s lap, and Yunho’s hand is still in his hair, and it’s so easy to lick against the seam of Yunho’s lips and turn the entire thing up several notches until Changmin is hard in his shorts and can’t quite keep from making noises.

Not that Yunho’s any better. When Changmin pulls back to yank both their hats off and toss them like frisbees across the pink polished table, the other man’s eyes are blown wide, to the point where Changmin can only tell they’re usually a slightly larger brown because they’re still breathing the same air. Also, his chest is heaving, and Changmin sprawls both hands against it with a tiny sigh, so fucking in _love._

“Changmin-ah?” Yunho’s voice sounds wrecked.

Changmin wants to kiss him again.

“Not that this isn’t lovely.” Yunho clears his throat a few times. “But I think we’re going to have to order food?”

As if on cue, someone knocks on the door.

Changmin wants to groan, but settles for thumping his forehead down onto Yunho’s chest. “Fuck,” he says.

Yunho reaches up and plays with the baby hairs at the base of his neck. “Sorry.”

Changmin heaves one more sigh, and gets up. “You owe me,” he decides. “Next time we’re just going straight home.”

Yunho’s lips twitch, even as he arranges himself into the seat next to Changmin so that they’re thighs are pressed together, even though there’s quite a few more chairs in the room, and they’re on the same damn side of the table like idiots. Although, to be fair, Changmin thinks it would be more date-like if they sat across the table from each other, and this way he can step on Yunho’s feet a few times to try to help the other man with his erection.

Yunho glowers at him, mouth turned down in a pout, even as Changmin calls in the serving staff with a perfect idol smile.

“The military’s made you reckless,” Yunho says, after they’ve given their order and their waiter is collecting their menus. “You didn’t used to be this much of a brat.”

Changmin snorts, unbothered. “Hyung, half our fans call me Voldemin,” he says. “I’m practically known for being a brat.”

Yunho’s mouth downturns quickly. “You are not,” he says. “And not half.” He looks like he wants to say more, and Changmin stills him by interlinking their ankles under the table.

“So, tell me what you’ve been doing without me. Jaeyoung-hyung was saying you had a new song idea?”

Yunho pauses lips still in a slight frown, before very pointedly relaxing his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says. “Well, just melody. I’m horrible at lyrics, Changdol, you know that--”

 _No, you’re not_ , Changmin thinks. And also: _my last song was literally about fucking you and yours included a fucking children’s choir_.

Yunho just smiles at him, and, since they’re alone now, links their hands.

Changmin feels the wind go out of his sails, his ears blush, and lets out a pained breath of air. “Sap,” he says, and tightens his hand before Yunho can pull back. “Now what’s this melody--?”

\--

In September, they don’t see each other. They almost do, but it’s a barely there overlap that leaves Changmin alone in the booth listening to both himself and recordings of Yunho. In October, they see each other blatantly. Changmin makes a point to go out with Kyuhyun beforehand, and then not on purpose calls him in a post coital haze the day after, sprawled across Yunho’s chest, panting, half asleep, and grinning like the cat got the not-so-metaphorical cream.

Kyuhyun acts tough, but Changmin knows he’s really happy for him. Deep down. Under all the bluster. And shouting. And the ‘SHIM CHANGMIN I’M TRYING TO EAT A MIDNIGHT SNACK STOP CALLING ME IN THE MIDDLE OF SEX.’ And then, afterwards, _Hello, Yunho-hyung, this is Kyuhyun i just wanted to say that i in no way meant to imply Changmin was having sex with anyone else b/c you didn’t know Changmin had called me during sex at any other time._ And then, slightly later, _that made no sense, again, sorry. Changmin’s only slept with you. He only called me this one time and once in 2013 but let’s not talk about it. I haven’t forgotten about the time you did it against my door. Please don’t tell Teukie-hyung._

And then, November, and Changmin finds himself taking the KTX down to Gwangju wearing a fan gift, wishing desperately he had hair, and smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. Cause Jihye’s getting _married_. Not seeing Yunho officially on a break is worth it for _this_. Even if Yunho’s mother does tell him off for not eating well enough and tries to pinch his cheeks.

\--

“You’re paying,” says Changmin, before Yunho’s even finished setting his hat down on the pink table.

“Changdol-ah,” he says pleasantly. “It’s so nice to see you too. It has been so long.”

Changmin ignores him. “Paying.” He bats his eyes a few times. “You’re the Hyung.”

Yunho’s eyes narrow a little. “What’s your schedule?” he asks. It’s a loaded question.

Changmin’s got nothing until he’s due back to work. “Yours,” he manages, voice hoarse. “Why?”

Yunho’s lips curve into a slow smile. “No reason,” he says. “Of course Hyung will pay for you, Changdol. It’s the New Year.”

Changmin has a horrible sinking feeling. “Thank you,” he says anyway, because it’s always safe to be polite when Yunho looks at you like that.

The older man settles into the chair next to Changmin--the same one he took in August, Changmin notes--and smiles a mischievous and worrying smile. “You’re welcome.”

Changmin’s throat goes dry. He clears his throat. “Awesome.”

Yunho keeps smiling.

“So, uh, how are things in the army?” Changmin starts to say, feeling a little bit like an idiot, at the same time Yunho says, “So Siwon was saying something about how you miss me.”

Changmin’s mouth snaps shut.

Yunho’s eyebrows raise.

Changmin’s cheeks burn. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says stiffly.

Yunho crosses his legs under the table. “Right,” he says.

Changmin hates him. He says as much.

And that gets him a laugh--a real laugh, with Yunho’s voice cracking in the middle and his eyes crinkling at the corners and his head going back to the point where Changmin almost worries about him.

It makes his chest ache, makes his breath stutter, and Changmin says he’s reaching out to keep the man from breaking his neck in his enthusiasm but really it’s because he can’t believe this is his. That he gets to wake up every day to this; that Yunho _loves_ him.

Something of that definitely shows on his face, because Yunho goes very suddenly serious, and sets an elbow on the table so that he can blink up at Changmin, cheek cupped in his palm and eyelashes fluttering.

Changmin swallows, overcome, and buries his face in the table. It’s way too shiny and fancy for biting or anything, but it works fabulously for blocking out the sight of Yunho’s face. “Siwon-hyung and Donghae-hyung are the worst,” he says.

Yunho drops a hand in his hair and strokes, fingers pressing into all the tender spots and making Changmin’s skin break out in gooseflesh. He’s suddenly thankful for the coolness of the table, because it eases the flush in his cheeks. “You don’t mean that,” Yunho says. His fingers trace calming patterns down the back of Changmin’s neck.

“No, I do,” Changmin says emphatically, still into the marble. “They’re awful. I want to transfer.”

Yunho’s fingers skitter along the shell of one ear and then quickly away before Changmin can shake him off. “But they _love_ you, Changdol.”

Changmin lifts his head a little so that he can glare rather balefully up at Yunho, and then, after a brief pause, butt his head better into Yunho’s hand. Because it’s helping with the stress induced headaches and shoulder pain, is all. Nothing else.

Yunho pets him with a small smile. “I miss you too,” he says.

Changmin considers thumping his forehead into the table again, growls under his breath, and finally shoves Yunho’s hands off. “Hyung.” He’s still red in the face, feeling a little like some of that is cause the blood’s rushed to his head, but also fully aware that most of that is because of the way Yunho’s looking at him, the way he’s got his hand stuck out between them mid pet; how he’s still resting his face in his hand; how his lips are just slightly parted.

Changmin leans in and kisses him.

Yunho lets him, hand doing something in the background and breath puffing out in a gust, but Changmin just swallows it down and closes his eyes because if he can’t see it he can’t be affected. He pulls back with a sigh and rests their foreheads together. “Hyung,” he says again. “We’re fucking _saps_.”

There’s a pause.

For a second, they just breath together.

And then Yunho’s laughing, breathless against the seam of Changmin’s mouth and one hand leaving the table to settle onto Changmin’s side, right across a rib.

Changmin feels like a cat, skin shuddering at the touch, and he finally opens his eyes.

“Changmin-ah,” Yunho says when he does. “I _missed_ you.”

And then he grabs Changmin by both cheeks and pinches.

Changmin squawks, blushing in earnest now, and flails himself away desperately so that Yunho doesn’t figure out his heart rate's gone crazy and his dick might actually be interested in the turn of events. “Yunho-hyung!” he shrieks.

Yunho just holds on with a lazy grin. “I’m just checking,” he says, losing his hold on Changmin’s face so that he’s just cupping his face. “You’re still all lean and grown up,” he adds, as if clarifying.

Changmin has absolutely no idea what to do with this information. “Are you a fucking _pervert_?” is what he ends up with, voice high and cracked. “Stop talking about me like I’m your child--”

“Well you are my baby,” Yunho points out, the twinkle in his eyes belying the teasing nature of the statement. “So…”

Changmin flushes harder, suddenly pleased. “Yeah, no,” he says, because he can work with this. “I think you’ll find you’re _mine_.” And then, to prove his point, he reaches out to pinch _Yunho’s_ cheeks.

Yunho’s lashes flutter. His throat bobs.

Changmin finds himself gentling his hold before he can help himself. “Fuck,” he says under his breath. “Fuck.”

Yunho’s eyes blink open lazily, and then he ruins the moment by yawning.

Changmin watches him, fully aware he’s smiling like an idiot, and totally uncaring. “Are you not sleeping well?” he says.

“Mmm,” Yunho turns his face into Changmin’s hands, dropping his own fingers back down onto the table and closing his eyes again. “Yeah, but I miss you.”

Changmin’s breath whooshes out in one great gust. “Oh,” he says. “I mean, yeah,” he adds. “Me too,” he finishes.

Yunho’s lips twitch. “You could probably dancer harder, though,” he says.

Changmin taps him gently on the cheek. “Shut up, you know how I feel about our own choreography.” He smiles. “Can you sing and dance to _Rokugo_? Or _Devil_?”

Yunho opens one eye. “Is this a rhetorical question…?” he asks, voice trailing off.

Changmin taps him on the bicep, less gently this time. “Yah,” he says. “Don’t be a show off.”

Yunho drops his cheek back down into his palm, one elbow on the table again, so that Changmin has to lean in so that he can keep petting him. They’re basically turned towards each other at one side of the table, knees bumping underneath. He supposes it’s good their backs are towards the door.

“Sorry.” Yunho does not sound it.

Changmin grumbles under his breath. “I don’t like dancing,” he explains, and then, knowing Yunho’s going to contest that instantly. “I mean Shim Changmin doesn’t like dancing.” He stops, blushing. “I mean. I just. I’m just Shim Changmin and I don’t like dance--”

Yunho lifts his head up, swings his chair out and legs around, and somehow manages to wrestle Changmin around so that they’re face to face, less cramped, and nearly in one another’s laps. “I’m worried that I’m forgetting who I am, sometimes,” Yunho interrupts.

Changmin blinks. “Why?”

“Because I have to work harder than everyone else,” Yunho explains, eyes kind. “Because I have to show everyone that I deserve to be there.”

Changmin blinks again. “But everyone loves you?”

“I feel like I always have to be _U-Know Yunho_ all the time,” Yunho continues, unperturbed. “I feel like I’m forgetting who Jung Yunho is.”

Changmin’s mouth parts. “Oh,” he says. “That’s dumb.”

Yunho snorts. “Thanks, Changdol,” he says. “You’re so nice to me.”

Changmin rolls his eyes a little. “You’re not listening, idiot,” he says, affection lining the end of his sentence. “They’re the same person.”

Yunho’s the one blinking now.

“You’re the same person. Jung Yunho is U-Know Yunho.” He makes a face. “Did you know my juniors keep trying to tell me your name is _cool_ , Hyung?” He can’t help but shake his head. “Cool. U-Know Yunho. _Cool_.”

Yunho stares at him, mouth open, eyes almost wide, and an utterly odd look on his face, and then he smiles. His faces cycles through confusion, realization, and then, because there’s really no other word for it, pure affection. It makes Changmin’s eyes hurt, because it’s like the sun’s coming out, and he thinks, briefly, of that time Kyuline googled Cassiopeia and decided that Yunho was the brightest star. Because its Arabic name was “the breast,” Minho had said, drunk on almost all of Changmin’s good soju, and Changmin had found the entire thing so hilarious he’d laughed himself sick, at which point one of Kyuhyun’s hyungs--Hyukjae-hyung, Changmin thinks--had wandered in to yell at them for making noise.

But now, he thinks, it’s the most accurate thing, because Yunho certainly smiles brighter than a sun.

It’s enchanting; Changmin wants to kiss him senseless.

“The coolest,” Yunho says around his grin. “Thank you, Changdol.”

Changmin opens and closes his mouth. Then he narrows his eyes. “What for?” he says, pulling back and pursing his lips. “Hyung.”

Yunho leans in and kisses him quickly to distract him, and Changmin hates to admit it fucking works.

“Now, shall we tell them we’re ready for food?” Yunho gets to his feet, stretches languidly, and goes for the door. “I’m surprised no one’s knocked.”

“Well, I told them to give us a moment,” Changmin says under his breath, but Yunho ignores him.

“Hyung is paying,” he calls over his shoulder. “Order what you like.” There’s a pause. “Just remember I’m but a poor soldier now. Think of my family.”

Changmin rolls his eyes. “I am your family,” he says. “And I’m a soldier too, asshole.”

Yunho just pulls the door open and goes out in search of food.

\--

“I am going to sue,” Changmin says, without looking up from the magazine.

Yunho just keeps staring at him, and Changmin can practically feel the excitement running off him. He imagines the man with perked up dog ears. And then he stares even harder at the magazine because what the hell even.

“[ _As such, I think this is where Jung Yunho and U-Know Yunho meet_](https://tvxqexpress.com/2017/05/21/trans-yunho-for-korean-magazine-arena-homme-june-issue-2017-released-170520/),” he reads, still not looking up. “Suing.”

Yunho’s definitely smiling now. “But I talked about you after,” he says.

“Yeah.” Changmin still doesn’t look up. “And you made us sound _married_.”

Yunho’s definitely pouting now. “But, Changdol, you wear jewelry I gave you on your _wedding hand_ \--”

Changmin lifts the arm in question, unclasps the bracelet in question, and slaps it onto his right wrist. He has to abandon _Arena_ Magazine and meet Yunho’s eyes, but it’s worth it to see the pout full on, only getting larger and more exaggerated as Changmin viciously demotes him to fucking fiancé.

“There!” he says, voice high. “Happy?”

Yunho’s eyes twinkle and he crosses the room, stepping carefully around the pile of his magazine and pulling Changmin in close by the hips. “That made no sense in 2015,” he says. “It makes even less sense now.”

“You make no sense,” Changmin snaps instantly, and only yelps slightly when Yunho kisses him.

“ _You_ make me make sense,” Yunho says, in between bruising kisses, and Changmin wants to hit him, but it’s so much easier to just kiss him, and kiss him, and pretend he doesn’t notice Yunho unwinding the Hermes bracelet and sliding it back onto its proper hand.

\--

End.

**Author's Note:**

> LOVE YOU DEBS. FEEL BETTER SOON! 
> 
> Masterpost on tumblr [Tumblr masterpost](http://zimriya.tumblr.com/post/161321885070/title-cross-indexing-every-weathermans-report) || [Twitter masterpost](https://twitter.com/zimriya/status/885538525193662466)


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